


Absolute Sap

by Bunnywest



Series: Keep Calm and Read Steter [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Good Peter Hale, Marriage Proposal, Reminiscing, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23374552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Dating Stiles has been one of the best experiences of Peter’s life, even though they got off to a rocky start.That first date, the one he prepared for with such care, turned into a total disaster, and if it had been anyone but her, Peter doesn’t doubt it would have been over before it began.He smiles to himself, remembering.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Keep Calm and Read Steter [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679953
Comments: 52
Kudos: 751





	Absolute Sap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> for the prompt from Beacon911:  
> marriage proposal? can div/future fic marriage proposal?? 🥺I don't even know why/how this would come up but, for some reason its what my heart yearns for atm  
> Here you go - a sequel to [Flying](http://archiveofourown.org/works/23358793)

Peter hums as he shaves, his hands steady as he uses the straight razor to scrape off the last of his goatee. Personally he likes it, but there have been complaints made, and if the choice is getting to keep his facial hair or getting to keep putting his mouth between Stiles’s legs? No contest.

Cool hands wrap around his naked chest just as he lays the razor down, and Stiles sprawls across his back like a cat in a patch of sunlight, completely at home there. He leans back into her touch, smiling to himself. “Decided to wake up, have we?”

Stiles mumbles something against his skin, then lifts her head and tries again. “S’your fault. You broke me.”

Peter smirks. “I’d apologize, but you didn’t seem to mind at the time.”

“Mmmm. What time are we going out?” Stiles detaches herself and stretches her arms languidly overhead as she speaks, and Peter catches a tantalizing glimpse of naked skin in the mirror. He licks his lips.

Even though they’ve spent most of the day in bed celebrating the anniversary of their first date, Peter’s sure he has the energy for one more round. “We have an hour. Maybe we could - ”

Stiles gives his ass a light slap – it’s a habit, one Peter hopes she never gets out of. “Nope. If we’re going on a date, I need time to make myself look good – once you’ve finished hogging the bathroom, that is.” She ruffles his hair as she walks out, and Peter sighs dramatically, both at the rejection of his advances and at the way she’s ruined his hair. He doesn’t really mind though, and they both know it.

Dating Stiles has been one of the best experiences of Peter’s life, even though they got off to a rocky start. That first date, the one he prepared for with such care? It turned into a total disaster, and if it had been anyone but Stiles, Peter doesn’t doubt it would have been over before it began. 

He smiles fondly, remembering.

* * *

When Peter had turned up to collect Stiles, there was no sign of denim or flannel. Instead, she was wearing an emerald green, figure-hugging sheath dress and four inch heels, hair styled in such a way that she looked like a femme fatale from a fifties detective novel. She was perfect, and Peter had taken one look and been speechless, much to her delight. She’d laughed, and let him hold the door for the car, and she hadn’t objected in the least when he slid a hand possessively over her bare shoulders, unable to resist the sight of all that whisper-smooth skin.

Dinner had gone smoothly, the restaurant living up to its reputation, and Peter had dared to think it was all going his way as they started the drive home. He must have tempted fate, because the next thing he knew the car dragged and lurched to the side, and it was only due to his quick reflexes that they didn’t end up in a ditch.

Upon inspection, it appeared that he’d run over something, resulting in a flat. At first he hadn’t worried, had possibly even been glad of the chance to show off his strength, but then, when he’d gone to get the spare, he’d found an empty space, and recalled too late that he’d meant to get that tire replaced for months now. It didn’t help that Stiles was biting her lip in an effort to hide a smile.

Peter had been prepared to swallow his pride and call them a cab, but of course things didn’t go that smoothly. The rain that had been threatening chose that exact moment to start, falling hard and heavy with no warning, and it was a matter of seconds before they were both drenched. It didn’t help that the car doors were open, meaning the interior was also a sodden mess.

Stiles’s hair had gone from elegant curls to straight and soaked, and her dress was clinging to her in a most distracting manner, but it was her shoes that were the real casualties. The ground beneath her was quickly becoming a quagmire and her heels were sinking in. She’d used one hand to balance on the car and the other to rip them off one by one, throwing them into the car.

Peter had sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and made a snap decision. The date was ruined anyway. The least he could do was get Stiles out of the rain. He knew there was a gas station about a mile up the road – it shouldn’t take him long to get her there. He’d stripped off his soaked jacket and stashed it in the car alongside her shoes, locked the doors, and turned around so his back was facing her, arms out at his sides, crouching slightly. “Get on,” he’d yelled over the pounding rain.

“What?” Stiles had called back.

“ _Get on,_ ” he’d repeated, louder this time. “I’ll take you somewhere dry.”

Stiles hadn’t replied for a second, and when Peter had turned to see what was wrong, she’d been standing there, hands on her hips. “In this dress? I don’t think so!” And he’d had to admit, she had a point. Just then the thunder had started, and she’d shrugged and held out a hand. “Fuck it. Claw.”

It was his turn to yell. “What?”

“ _Give me a claw,_ ” she’d repeated, loud and slow. It was such an odd request Peter hadn’t thought to question it, but had instead extended his index finger, suitably unsheathed.

Stiles had taken his hand and guided it to the side of her dress, just at the top of her thigh, then pressed downwards, and Peter could feel the pop and rip of stitching as the fabric parted. Stiles repeated the exercise on the other side, and she was grinning as she let go of his hand. “ _Now_ I’m ready.” Then she’d smacked his ass, a move that had been shocking and thrilling all at once, and she’d laughingly yelled, “Ride like the wind, Bullseye!” before clambering onto his back like a monkey. A laughing, wet, sexy monkey.

Peter suspects that’s the moment he started to fall in love with her.

He’d put on an extra burst of speed, elated that she wasn’t too upset, that it might not be ruined yet, and when they’d reached the safety of the gas station, she’d stayed close, arms wrapped around his neck, and said firmly, “Next time, we take my jeep. At least it’s reliable.”

Peter would have been offended, but he was too caught up on the words _next time._

* * *

Next time became the time after that, and the time after that, and the time after that, and before he knew it Peter was hopelessly in love, enraptured, entranced.

Luckily, he wasn’t the only one. Stiles moved in six months later.

* * *

Peter waits patiently while Stiles prepares – she’d chased him out of the bedroom with firm instructions. “Wait downstairs, I don’t trust you not to grope me.” He can’t blame her – its wisdom born of experience, after all.

While he waits, he pulls the ring box he's been hiding out of his jacket pocket, opening and closing it to check the ring inside hasn’t mysteriously disappeared. His fingers tap against his leg, and he forces them to still. He doesn’t really doubt what Stiles’s answer will be, but there’s always that chance, and he hasn’t discussed it with her because he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise. Sue him, he’s a romantic.

Luckily, so is she.

(It’s their secret.)

“Are you nearly ready sweetheart?” he calls, checking his watch.

“Just a second!” There’s muttered swearing and then, “Can you zip me up?”

He perks up at that – _zip me up_ means a dress, and she knows he loves it when she’s in a dress.

He’s not prepared, however, when he walks into the bedroom and finds her wearing _the_ dress - the same one he thought was ruined forever by rain and claws and mud. “How?” he asks, dumbstruck.

Stiles smiles coyly over her shoulder, hair falling down in waves. “I thought you might like it, since you’re such a romantic, so I had it repaired.”

Peter stands there, taking in the full picture. Not only is Stiles wearing the same dress as she wore on their first date, her hair’s styled the same, and she’s wearing the same silk stockings that he loves, the ones with the seams down the back, and he knows that means there’s a garter belt hiding somewhere.

Peter had a _plan,_ dammit. He was going to propose between dinner and dessert, and he's arranged for the restaurant to have a cake and champagne, ready to toast their happiness. But suddenly, he can’t wait.

“Marry me?”

Stiles whips around to face him, her mouth a perfect O of surprise.

Peter fumbles in his pocket, pulls out the ring box. “I was going to ask over dinner, but - “ he stops, speechless, one hand extended towards her in a gesture that’s helpless and hopeful all at once.

Stiles is silent, and Peter holds his breath. Slowly though, a smile spreads across her face. “You’re a sap, you know that? I’m marrying an absolute sap.” She extends her left hand in invitation, and Peter slips the ring on her finger.

“Says the woman who had her ruined dress repaired because she ' _thought I might like it',_ ” he observes, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. “You’re worse than me.”

Stiles’s expression goes soft. “Shh. It’s a secret.”

* * *

Predictably, they’re late for dinner. 

* * *

(Peter proposes again, properly this time, at the restaurant. There’s cake and champagne after all, and both he and Stiles agree it would be a shame to waste it.)


End file.
